Soldier
by adaris
Summary: An alternate ending to the movie. What if pushing the cube into Megatron's chest really was as dangerous as Optimus made it sound? Bee/Sam, eventual R rating
1. Prologue

_Author's Notes:_

_I'd like to start by saying, I make no claims to be a writer. I don't have a way with words that many fanfiction writers do, and so this story is probably not going to run as smoothly as others that you have read._

_For this I apologise. I have, until now, only written short stories and drabbles, as they take less time to rewrite and rewrite again until I'm satisfied. However, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to write something like this._

_I love my car, man. I mean, I adore him. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to go outside and screw him, but the idea of a possible relationship between a human and a sentient car grabs my attention. So, I'm writing this, and I can only hope that you take at least a little enjoyment from reading it._

* * *

'You're a soldier now!'

Sam remember Lennox's shouted words as he hefted the weight of the All-Spark in his hands. Dimly he heard Optimus' command for him to destroy the powerful cube, but he was frozen, staring upwards into the face of Megatron.

'You're a soldier now!'

Soldiers didn't willingly destroy their comrades. Soldiers held each other's backs. Soldiers were loyal.

Sam thrust the All-Spark upwards, into the chest of the Decepticon leader. Holding it there as it began to glow, feeling the heat blistering the skin of his hands. A charge ran through the cube, making Sam's whole body tingle. A loud, high pitched squeal emanated from the place where the box met with Megatron's Spark.

He could feel the current surrounding them, and knew instinctively that this could only end with a bang.

'No sacrifice, no victory.'

His own words came back to haunt him. If he let go of the All-Spark now, Megatron would be able to release himself.

'You're a soldier now!'

Sam held on. He couldn't risk the fate of the whole world, of Mikaela, of his parents, his friends, the autobots... Bee. At the thought of the crippled bot, his resolve strengthened, and he thrust the All-Spark higher.

He felt the charge build, heard Optimus scream his name, and then everything went white.


	2. Chapter One

'Sam?'

Why couldn't they leave him be? He was tired, he just wanted to sleep.

'Sam!'

He grumbled, lifting an arm to swat mindlessly at the source of the voice.

No... Wait. His arm hadn't moved. Carefully he attempted to open his eyes. Nothing.

Oh, dear God, he was paralyzed. God, no, please, he'd rather be dead.

'Sam, can you hear me?'

He tried to open is mouth, tried to tell them that he couldn't move, but even his voice refused to respond.

He felt himself start to fade out of consciousness again, as though the small, failed efforts had drained all his energy.

In the background he heard muttered words.

'...might not recover for some time yet.'

'But he appears to be... shouldn't he... awake?'

'...suffered a great deal of trauma, he... time.'

'Very... me if he...'

Unable to continue following the conversation, Sam drifted off again.

*

The next time he awoke, it was silent. A few simple tests showed that he was still unable to move.

Christ, what had happened to him? He remembered shoving the All-Spark into Megatron's chest, and being caught up in the resulting explosion. Obviously that explosion was the reason he was in this condition, but what could have occurred to cause complete paralysis?

He felt so hopeless, if he'd been able to cry he would surely be wailing by now. What was to happen to him now? Would he be locked away in a hospital for the rest of his life? Unable to tell anyone that he was awake?

Suddenly a bright light flashed in front of his eyes, fading away to form text. The writing slowly scrolled past his eyes, but he was unable to read it, as it was written in the strange symbols that he recognized as Cybertronian.

He could have wept then, out of happiness. Finally he could open his eyes, he could see. He had no idea where he was, but clearly it was in the care of the Autobots.

With an internal sigh of relief, he slipped away into his dreams once more.

*

Sam was dragged painfully back into awareness. Something was screaming loudly nearby, and the scrolling words above his head were rushing by, flashing red.

He groaned, God, shut that thing up please!

The siren ceased.

Sam paused. Could it have stopped simply because he thought about how much h wanted it to?

As a test he thought carefully, can't that text show in English or something?

The words above him faded, returning a split second later in English. They were still moving far too fast for him to decipher, but he could pick out a handful of common words.

Stable. Online. Repair. Systems. Recovery.

The words did little to reassure him, and a lot to confuse him, so he turned his attention away from them, and towards testing his limbs, working on his left index finger.

It twitched.

Sam concentrated on lifting his hand. With some effort, it raised up from the surface it was resting on.

With a final burst of energy he focused on moving his whole arm, raising it up to his head. As it slowly came into his line of vision he froze. It was not his arm, he must be hallucinating. In place of his flesh there was nothing but silver metal. Cybertronian metal.

Oh. Hell.

With a groan, Sam passed out once more.


	3. Chapter Two

When Sam next dragged himself to the surface of consciousness, it was to the sight of Bumblebee's face leaning over him. The bot's optics somehow conveying worry and sadness.

Suddenly the memories hit him. That arm. Oh, God, that arm. He raised the limb up to his face. Not a dream then. Shit.

The scrolling text above him had disappeared, but a number of displays filled the sides of his vision. Clearly the text hadn't been on the roof then.

Bumblebee must have sensed his panic and horror, because the Autobot leaned a little closer.

_Are you there, can you hear me?_

_Are you there?_

'Bee.' His voice came out sounding tinny and unreal, only serving to further remind him of this nightmare he'd awoken to, 'What happened?'

The yellow robot held up his index finger, and turned to look at something.

'Bee?' He tried again, his panic building.

_Hang on._

_Help is on its way._

The instant the radio cut off, Sam heard someone moving, and the face of Ratchet appeared in his vision.

'Sam, you have been... injured. Please, do not try to speak or move until I have assessed your condition.' The medic proceeded to scan his eyes over Sam's body, muttering to himself throughout the process. Eventually he looked back up.

'It would appear you have recovered well. However, there are some issues we must discuss. Bumblebee informs me that you have noticed the state of your arm, and indeed your body. I'm afraid this may be a little hard to understand, but I shall attempt to explain in simple terms.

Here the medic paused for a moment, looking lost in thought, before continuing, 'When you pushed the All-Spark into Megatron's chest, you triggered an explosion. It was inevitable, the source of our life, our heart and soul, so to speak, coming into contact with that which created it could only be catastrophic.

In the time between the All-Spark first touching Megatron's spark, and it's destruction, the Decepticon attempted to issue a command, a simple instruction for the All-Spark to seek out the nearest possible body and transfer his consciousness to it. This was impossible, as Megatron was already far too close to death to be saved. However, the All-Spark attempted to follow it's commands. It pulled your consciousness from your body and fed it into a nearby object.

It is Megatron's own command that you have to thank for being alive, without it you would have died in the explosion along with your original body.'

Ratchet paused once more, looking down, 'I understand that this will be hard for you to deal with Sam, but it is a fact that your consciousness is now housed within a Cybertronian body. You are an Autobot now. I'm sorry.'

Within Sam's mind, Lennox's words echoed once more, _'You're a soldier now!'_

He stayed silent, and eventually Ratchet left, patting him gently on the shoulder. The touch felt strange in this new form, like he was wearing a layer of foam padding.

Bee's face loomed over him once more, and Sam closed his eyes.

_And each and everyday will lead into tomorrow._

_I don't wanna see you frown._

_Keep ya head ._

The mash of songs was almost enough to make Sam smile. Almost. He sighed, 'Don't, Bee.'

_Everything's gonna be alright now,_

_Everybody say ah yeah that's right, _

_Everything's gonna be alright now,_

_Everybody say it one more time,_

_Everything will be alright, alright._

'Bee, just...' Sam growled in frustration, 'Just leave me the hell alone, okay!'

The yellow bot moaned sadly, but stood and left, sparing him one last saddened glance.

Sam sighed, carefully pushing himself up, swinging his legs off the table he was lying on, and standing.

Looking down, he saw nothing but metal, and in a sudden fit of rage he swung his arm around, smashing his fist into a nearby wall and crumbling the concrete.

'GOD DAMMIT!'

* * *

_Lyrics:_

_10 Years - Waking Up_

_Little River Band - Help Is On Its Way_

_Rise Against - Like The Angel_

_G-Unit - Smile_

_2PAC - Smile_

_Good Charlotte - Waldorf Worldwide_


	4. Chapter Three

_A/N: I'd just like to thank everyone who's reviewed so far (I do love me some reviews), and everyone who has added this story to their watched/favourites list =)_

Bumblebee sat against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest plate, staring at the makeshift wall that separated him from his charge.

It had been 13 days since the battle at Mission City.

For 8 days Sam had slept in a medically induced stasis. For 8 days Bee and his team had waited, worried for the young man.

Then Sam had awoken, but the yellow bot's joy was short lived. Ratchet had told him that Sam was not ready to accept his current condition, that he would come around in time. all Bee knew was that Sam refused to see him, that if he entered the boy's room he would be subjected to a stream of profanity, interjected with flying objects.

It hurt Bumblebee to know that Sam wanted nothing to do with him, hated him. 5 days was an insignificant amount of time, a mere blink, in an Autobots life, but these 5 days seemed an eternity to the young Cybertronian.

Optimus' arrival, carrying a limp metal form, after the Decepticons had been defeated had been followed by a brief scramble and rush to find a hideout.

They had ended up in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of of the city. It was not an ideal location, but it was large enough to house the Autobots and allow Ratchet to work his magic on their injuries.

They'd been in the warehouse ever since, an injured human turned mech, a dead comrade, and 4 mourning Autobots. Mikaela had attempted to visit once and was turned away by Ratchet, who feared for both her safety and that of Sam. She had begged that they keep her updated and agreed to invent a cover story to tell the young man's family and friends.

A scream echoed through the building, snapping Bumblebee out of his thoughts. The shout was followed by a series of crashes, and the yellow 'bot shrank into himself a little. This situation was all his fault, if he'd protected his charge better then Sam would be safe and wouldn't hate him.

He whined, turning his optics away from Sam's area of the warehouse. Unable to do anything but sit and wait, he scanned the radio stations. finding no lyrics to express his mood, he settled on a suitably melancholy song and lowered his head to his forearms.


	5. Chapter Four

There was only so many days that one could spend wallowing in self pity, and Sam had reached his limit.

There was very little sound from outside his cordoned off room, 3 off the 'bots were powered down to recharge, and Ironhide was outside playing with his cannons, his scans focused on the surrounding areas rather than the inside of the warehouse. Sam felt it the perfect time to pull himself together and assess just how fucked his life really was.

With a whir of gears he slid off the bench and onto his feet, swaying gently as he attempted to find his centre of gravity and regain his balance.

He lifted an arm, turning it from side to side, examining it. Harsh, dull metal, joints and bones lay beneath smooth, cobalt blue, plating. Fisting his hand, his heightened vision allowed him to see each gear and cog shift.

Looking down at his torso and legs, he twisted and crouched, watching the shift of alien metal and feeling the strange new sensation of movement. His mind was still screaming at him about how wrong this was, how awful and terrible and life destroying, and yet a small voice in the back of his head couldn't help but whisper that it was actually rather cool.

Sam spent what must have been an hour standing their, developing his sense of balance, understanding how his joints moved, and getting used to the odd feel of the simplest movement involving at least 15 shifting cogs.

Finally, he lay back down, not wanting the others to boot up and find him up and about. Whilst he was beginning to come to terms with what had occurred, he wasn't yet ready to face the Autobots.


	6. Chapter Five

It took another week before Sam worked up the courage to delve into the depths of his mind and find the information that he so desperately both wanted and feared.

During that time he had learned how to move within his new metal body well, finding that, despite the appearance of stiffness within the Cybertronian's metal frames, they were far more nimble and flexible than humans.

Now though, he hoped he was ready to take his practice to the next step.

Digging deep within his mind, he found the switch that he was looking for, and flicked it. A wave of panic swept over him as his limbs folded in on themselves and his 'parts' moved into new, and very different, places. Yet, he forced himself not to push that switch back. He'd see this through, or he'd be living in fear for the rest of his life.

Than, as quickly as it had started, it was over. His vision was now far closer to the ground, and his footing on the concrete felt a lot softer.

Other than a whole new set of strange feelings and sensations, he felt completely in control of this new form, in fact, he felt excellent. With merely a thought his engine started, purring softly, and he edged forward, out into the main area of the warehouse and out to the main door.

'Ironhide.' He said quietly, backing up quickly as the Autobot spun around and levelled his cannons, 'It's me, Sam.'

'Sam. So you're up at last.' His gruff words were softened by his kind tone, understanding and scorn mingling in his voice.

'Listen, I want to go for a drive before I let the others know. I'll be back before they boot up.' He tried for a hopeful tone, as he could see the Cybertronian considering his words. Same could imagine that Ironhide was weighing up the choices, concern for the physical safety of the ex-human under his charge warring with concern for the mental safety.

Eventually he spoke, 'You may go, provided you stay in contact. You can use your comms?'

'I think so,' Sam delved within his mind once more, finding the link that now bound him to the four Autobots and singling out Ironhide, 'Like this?' He questioned, his voice transmitting over a comm signal rather than him speaking.

Ironhide signalled his approval, and without another word, Sam tore off down the road, relishing the feeling of speed and freedom. He drove for near 2 hours, weaving up and down freeways with ease, tearing down quiet roads, and keeping a steady link with the gruff 'bot - no words were needed he found, he could simply send a feeling of well-being.

Eventually he tired of his drive and, knowing the 3 others would be awake within minutes, tore back to the warehouse. He stopped outside, next to Ironhide, and transformed. It was far easier this time, he found, more like a good stretch than anything else.

When the last of his parts had finished clicking into the place he glanced over to Ironhide, noting that the Cybertronian still loomed above him.

'Good drive?' Ironhide questioned lightly.

'Yeah.' Same found that he felt surprisingly comfortable in the company of the weapons specialist, having no need to make idle conversation. They stood together, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon, until Sam heard the sound of the others moving about inside.

By an unspoken agreement, Ironhide stepped inside just in front of Sam, standing close and providing silent support as the others noticed him and headed over, their questions already beginning.

Same groaned internally. He almost wished he'd not gotten up at all.


	7. Chapter Six

Two hours later Sam was sitting outside, leaning against the wall of the warehouse, when he sensed an Autobot nearing him. Glancing up, he saw Bumblebee slouching back against the wall beside him.

Sam still wasn't particularly keen to talk to anyone, and so he remained silent, relishing the comfort of the yellow 'bots presence. Eventually Bee straightened and stepped away from the wall, folding into his Camaro form as he did so.

Spinning his wheels in the dirt, the Autobot tore off down the road and circled back up to Sam's side.

_Forget your problems and be free, enjoy this moment, come with me! _The radio crackled out and Bee rolled slowly back down the road.

With barely a second of hesitation Sam slid smoothly into his car form and followed Bumblebee down the road and onto the freeway, where the two spent an hour playing a tag game, weaving between cars and skidding over gutters until the tension slid away from Sam's mind and for the first time in a month he felt truly happy.

Bee seemed to sense the change within Sam, and wordlessly headed off the freeway and down small deserted roads until he eventually drew to a halt in a small clearing just off a logging track.

They sat in silence for a number of minutes before Bumblebee spoke up in that strangely refined voice that Sam was having trouble getting used to, 'I am glad you've recovered Sam.'

'I'm getting there Bee,' He cleared his throat, 'Why are we out here?'

'I felt like a drive,' Sam could almost here the shrug in the Autobot's voice, 'and now I feel like a rest.'

Sam sighed, 'There's one thing that really bothering me Bee, I just can't get past it,' He saw the Camaro sink down and emit a small worried sound, 'I don't know what kind of car I am.'

When Bumblebee responded there was relief clear in his tone, 'You're a Ford Mustang Cobra, Sam, complete with Autobot badges and a custom paintjob. My scans show that it's an excellent vehicle, fast and powerful, not to mention sleek and beautiful.'

Sam chuckled, pausing as a thought occurred to him, 'Why? I mean, I thought you guys got to choose what cars you turned into, but I woke up like this.'

'From what Ratchet has told me, it seems that the car already existed, it must have been parked in the vicinity of the battle. The All-Spark transformed it into a Cybertronian body, much like the cars and other technology that became Decepticons when the cube touched them, and transferred your consciousness to it.'

'So why aren't I, like, evil? Everything else that was transformed became a Decepticon, but you said I had Autobot badges.'

'Because you are not an evil person Sam. The other machines had minds created by the All-Spark, which drew upon their existing forms - created from Decepticon technology - to mold their Cybertronian forms and personalities, whereas your mind already existed and molded the transformation of the car to suit you.' Bumblebee explained, sounding a little unsure as he attempted to repeat what Ratchet had told him 2 weeks ago.

Attempting to cover his awkwardness, Sam switched the subject, unfolding into his Cybertronian form and watching as Bee followed suit. Sam noted that, while he was a good two feet taller than the yellow Autobot, he was of a slimmer build.

'How old are you Bee?' He asked.

Bumblebee cocked his head slightly, 'We do not measure time in the same way that your race does. However, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that I am 720 of your years.'

There was no kind way to say it, Same squeaked. A high pitched sound as his blue optics widened, '720 years?'

'The life of a Cybertronian is a long one and we mature slowly. I am but a teenager in your terms.'

Sam considered this. It was true, Bumblebee did act like a teenager, despite the mature voice he used, 'And me? How long am I going to live?' he asked.

'If well serviced, a Cybertronian cannot die of natural causes. If luck favours you, it is possible that you will live forever.'

Sam's mind spun. Forever? Flashes of an eternity spent alone, his friends and family dead, filled his mind before he squashed them down. _Take each day as it comes_, he told himself, _besides, there'll always be the Autobots looking out for me._

He sighed, 'Thanks for the talk Bee. You've given me a lot to think about.'

With that, Sam folded into his Cobra form and tore out of the clearing, Bee catching up to him as he hit the freeway. The feel of the wind rushing over and around his body was enough to wash away Sam's thoughts and worries for the future, and he laughed his way back to the warehouse, the sound of Bee's radio screaming through the comms.

_I got my head checked _

_By a jumbo jet _

_It wasn't easy _

_But nothing is,_

_No - _

_WOOHOO!_

_When I feel heavy metal WOOHOO!_

_And I'm pins and I'm needles WOOHOO!_

_Well I lie and I'm easy_

_All of the time but I'm never sure why I need you _

_Pleased to meet you! _

_I got my head done _

_When I was young _

_It's not my problem _

_It's not my problem..._

_Lyrics:_

_Special D - Come With Me_

_Blur - Song 2 (commonly referred to as the greatest driving song)_


	8. Chapter Seven

'Bee? Barricade had a police officer sitting in his front seat when I first met him. Was it a hologram?' Sam and Bumblebee were standing on a hilltop a few miles outside Mission city talking, as had become a routine for the two.

'Not a hologram. It is a robotic metal body covered in a layer of nanobots, which create the appearance of flesh and clothing. All Cybertronians can create them, but they drain our power at near double the normal rate.'

'So you can use them to, like, project yourself as a human? And they can move away from you?' Sam asked, rolling his head from side to side, stretching his robotic muscles.

Bumblebee nodded, 'Indeed. Barricade's officer is a mindless shell, only there to add to the appearance of being a normal car, however you can project your consciousness into the form, sending your true body into a sort of stasis. There is no limit to how far they can travel from your body, but they will run out of power within a few hours, at which point the nanobots will die and the body will fold back into a rectangular box shape.'

'Can you show me how?' Sam questioned.

'Of course, Sam. May I ask why you wish to know?' Bee cocked his head to the side curiously.

'I want to go and see Mikaela and my parents.'


	9. Chapter Eight

Sam slouched against a tree, enjoying the feeling of the sun upon his fake human flesh. Inside the ice cream parlour he was waiting outside, he could see Mikaela talking to her friends.

Eventually the group headed for the doors, blinking in the bright light as they exited. Upon spotting him, Mikaela froze, her jaw dropping. Muttering a quick goodbye to her friends, she rushed over to him, questions already pouring from her lips. Sam sighed and grabbed her arm, leading her to a quiet park across the road, where they sat on a grassy slope overlooking a lake.

'Sam? I thought... I mean, Optimus said... You were... And you... What?' Mikaela had a vaguely stunned and entirely confused look about her, and had the circumstances been different, Sam would have laughed.

'I'm not really here Kaela. I mean, I am here, but this isn't really me. This body is a fake, it's robotic.' He smiled thinly, 'The real me is in a parking lot a mile down the road.'

Mikaela sat silently, and Sam could see her mind spinning in circles, 'Wha'?'

He sighed, and launched into the story of what had happened since he left her with Bee on a tow truck in Mission City.

An hour later he'd explained everything, glossing over his emotional breakdown due purely to embarrassment, and the stunned look in Mikaela's eyes had faded somewhat, though much of the confusion remained.

'So you're okay with all this? It's just, if it were me I'd be a mess, I'd be screaming and crying and throwing shit.'

Sam chuckled with little humour, 'Oh, I was. Actually, I was kinda a mess for a couple weeks, but there's only so much moping one can do. Plus, once I pulled myself up from my pit of despair Bee was a real help. To be honest, I think if not for my drives and talks with him, I'd have shut down by now.'

'Well, I'm glad you're coping with it all, Sam.' She tentatively patted his shoulder, as if unsure that the comfort was welcome.

Sam coughed, 'Anyway, I want to see my parents and try to explain. What have they been told about where I've been?' he asked warily.

Mikaela grimaced, 'Yeah, uh... I mean, we didn't really know what had happened, only that you couldn't come home and might not for a long time, maybe forever. So Will and I, we told your parents that you'd been caught up in the Mission City fiasco and had been recruited for a top secret government intelligence team because of your exceptional leadership qualities.' She grinned, 'Your dad seemed real proud.'

Sam couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the captain and Mikaela sitting his parents down to talk about top secret government agencies and leadership qualities. His laughter seemed to break the tension in Mikaela, and they spent the rest of the afternoon happily chatting about nothing of importance. Eventually warning lights began blinking in Sam's vision, proclaiming that his power was running low, and he bid Mikaela farewell, arranging to meet again within the week.


End file.
